


A Proposal

by poppycostello



Series: Doctor Constable [4]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: Baker Street, Lestrade - Freeform, gladstone - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppycostello/pseuds/poppycostello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Holmes acts out-of-character as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Proposal

He was sat in the study and did not look remotely surprised when I gave him the bowl, merely thanked me and scuttled over to the corner of the room where his experiment was in full swing.  
"Really, Watson, you could have done better than this. Still, it will have to do. You did look at her, didn't you?"  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"When you noticed that she was in fact a pretty young thing and realised what you had to do. As you...spat...you were recalling her prettiness, I hope? I hope so, Watson, this experiment depends on it so."  
"Yes, I am fairly sure that I was, although there is definitely no need to repeat the process."  
"Ah. Yes. She became rather distressed when I attempted it myself, I figured you probably wouldn't stare as maniacally as I. And, it appears, that I was right!" He finished with a flourish as one of the beakers on his work station began to fizz with ferocity.  
"As to your notion of repeating the process, I am afraid I cannot allow that, Watson," he continued.  
"I am glad to hear that. I proposed to her that she allow Mary and I to put her up for a while."  
"You will do no such thing. It is my intention to propose to her as soon as I can acquire a ring. The King of France is due to send one through any day now and I will not have her developing fancies for you in the meantime."  
Holmes had only ever shown disdain towards spousal life for as long as I had known him and so this was a surprising turn of events, to say the least.  
"But, why? Surely you can't have developed a fondness for her?"  
"Who's to say I haven't? Seeing you so happily married has quite melted this cold heart of mine and besides, I am old and you have left me. I might as well take a woman."  
"Surely she has suitors already though, such a lovely young woman?"  
"Oh, yes, but I have spoken to the father and he is happy that any prior arrangements can be abolished if I wish to offer her my hand."  
"Ah! Oh, Holmes, how gallant of you, I didn't know you had it in you. And now the young lady shall be on fabulous terms with all her family and friends as she has secured the interest of their idol. Ingenious. Though still rather far-fetched. Are you quite sure you haven't taken a liking to her?"  
"Well, that's none of your business, Doctor. You must mind your own affairs. And stop visiting Scotland Yard without me."  
"I was visiting one of the Inspectors there to give evidence on one of our earlier cases, this autumn gone. But how did you-?"  
"There is a general air of sulphur about you, a chemical only used for cleaning in two buildings: prisons and police stations. And I can presume you weren't visiting felons. Add to that the fact that you are not carrying your medical equipment so I deduce that you have not been practicing today plus the white mark on your shoe that could only be from the chalk embedded within the stone steps leading up to Lestrade's office and it is the only plausible solution that could possibly occur. Really, Watson, do keep up."  
"Well done. But do not think to distract me from the topic of Miss Constable-"  
"What of me?" she asked, suddenly appearing at the door and waltzing in. "I'm sorry, but it was getting awfully boring in that room. I wondered if I could be permitted to play with the dog? He seems so sweet-tempered and I do love the creatures. Oh, and do call me Maisie."  
"Don't look at me, "Holmes stipulated, "Gladstone belongs to Watson."  
"Oh, now he's mine, is he? Whenever you poison him, he becomes our dog, but otherwise he belongs to me? Yes, Miss...Maisie, I believe he is hiding under that desk. I cannot promise that he will have a pulse at this moment in time but he should come to presently."  
"Oh, Maisie, you'll be delighted to hear that Watson is going to be joining us tonight at your little gig, "Holmes remarked.  
I remembered the invitation to the opera. "Do you perform?" I asked.  
"Oh, I am so glad that you'll come, "she cried, looking at me in earnest. When lost in excitement, she really did look quite ravishing, I couldn't help but notice. A little colour in the cheeks does wonders for both a woman's complexion and allure. "Yes," she carried on, "Yes, I guess I am a performer of sorts. I sing, that is. I really am so glad you'll be there, sir."  
"If we are to call you Maisie, then you must address us in concord as John and, well, call him what you will I suppose, he responds to 'old dog' more times than not." I cracked a grin at Holmes who did not respond in kind. In fact, he looked almost annoyed. How strange! I thought to myself, he must genuinely have designs on this girl. Well, I can't say I blamed him, she really was one of the most enchanting women I have ever come across in all my years. We sat and talked until well past sunset until Maisie made an 'oh!' of an exclamation and suddenly ran from the room upon enquiring the time.   
"Oh!" she cried, as she ran down the stairs to the street, "Oh, I am to be so very late, I will see you later gentlemen, God bless!"   
And with that, she was gone, the door banging behind her, the room still clutching to the smell of her British perfume. Holmes and I looked at each other and I enquired pleasantly as to which musical or opera we were to be watching tonight.  
He replied flippantly, "We will not be viewing anything of the sort tonight."  
"But you promised her that you'd go! That we'd both go, in fact. You won't win her heart by being callous and cruel."  
"I know, I am more practised with women than you could ever be, Watson, and you'd do well to remember that. We are seeing Miss Constable tonight. But look at the time. Dear Watson, the opera would have started hours ago! No, what we are attending is a top secret political protest, held in the heart of the city, in the basement of the Royal Opera House itself. Now, go, clean yourself up a little. Shave, wash behind your ears, that sort of thing. Be ready to leave in half an hour."

Forty-five minutes later, we were there. The basement was packed. The little man-made stage was empty. I looked at Holmes questioningly, wondering if he knew what he was doing. He gestured to the stage, where Maisie, of all people, was now standing, looking utterly petrified, staring at the mass crowd in front of her. That's when the lights went down. That's when the show started.


End file.
